Brother I Still Remember
by purplehairedwonder
Summary: In which Neal Caffrey is an alias for Cooper Anderson, con man extraordinaire, who just wants to set things right with his little brother. Chapter 4: Blaine visits his brother in the wake of his fight with Kurt.
1. An Ache I Still Remember

**Author's Note:** This idea came after the release of the full performance of "Somebody That I Used to Know" and is based on the information we have about the Anderson brothers prior to the airing of "Big Brother." It was tricky enough working around established _White Collar _canon about Neal's past, so I decided to write this before the episode could totally ruin the idea. This also takes place after the _White Collar_ season 3 finale, so beware of potential spoilers.

Story title comes from "Somebody That I Used to Know."

**Summary:** When an FBI agent from New York bursts into the auditorium and starts calling Cooper "Neal," Blaine realizes there's a lot more to his big brother and his disappearing act eight years before than he'd ever imagined.

**Blanket disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><strong>An Ache I Still Remember<strong>

* * *

><p>Neal's heart was hammering in his chest as the music died down and he stared at Blaine from across the stage. His brother was breathing hard, but his eyes were stuck on Neal's face. The whole moment was surreal, but Neal wasn't willing to break the spell for anything. Blaine opened his mouth, but froze at the sound of the auditorium door crashing open. They both looked up to see a shadowed figure step into the darkened auditorium. Neal squinted up at the intruder.<p>

"Dammit, Neal!"

Neal's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. He'd know that voice anywhere. "Peter?"

A thousand different scenarios flew across his mind, and his first instinct was to flee at most of them in case Peter wasn't alone. It had been less than a week since he'd fled New York City—fled a lifetime in prison or at Kramer's beck and call in D.C.—at Peter's say-so. But he glanced back at Blaine, who was frowning in confusion at the interruption and knew he had to see this through.

"What are you doing here?" Peter demanded, descending the steps two at a time, irritation flashing across his face. He was in jeans and a polo shirt, Neal noted in relief; he was off the clock, which was a good sign.

"What am _I_ doing here?" Neal echoed in disbelief.

Behind them, Neal distantly noted the band kids beating a hasty retreat. Blaine, though, hadn't moved an inch. In fact, he'd crossed his arms in that way that, as a kid, had meant that you'd have an easier time picking him up and carrying him than getting him to budge. A wave of nostalgia washed over Neal for a moment before Peter was hitting the stage and eating up the distance between them.

"You should be out of the country," he growled. "You should be on some island that's not on any map by now."

A surge of appreciation for Peter hit Neal hard at that; he'd risked his career by giving Neal the hint to leave in the first place. And this? This was aiding and abetting a fugitive at the very least.

"Lima barely makes a map," Neal ventured lamely when Peter didn't back down. It wasn't his best retort, but he was so far off-balance that he figured making any retort was impressive.

Peter's eyes narrowed at that. "Kramer's got the best FBI head hunters lining up to sniff out your trail, wise guy. He's not letting this go."

After a fleeting moment of pride that he'd garnered attention like _that_, dread settled heavily in his gut.

"How long?" he asked, biting his lip. He needed to get gone. But he also needed time; he'd planned on settling things with Blaine before vanishing with Mozzie, and things were far from settled with his kid brother.

"A day. Two at most."

Neal ran a hand through his hair. "There's no reason for them to find me here, Peter."

"I did," Peter countered.

A fact that Neal hadn't quite gotten his head around yet. "Yeah, how _did_ you find me?"

Peter opened his mouth, but Blaine chose that moment to break his silence. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on here?" He turned to Neal. "Who is this? And why is he calling you Neal?"

Neal sighed and dropped his hand to his side. Peter blinked and turned his attention to the teenager, looking as though he'd only just realized the kid was there, which was very unlike him.

"This is my partner from the FBI. My friend," Neal amended quickly. Because partner didn't even begin to cover it. "Peter Burke." Blaine's eyebrows went sky-high at that. "Peter," Neal added, turning to the fuming agent, "this is Blaine Anderson. My brother."

Peter gaped like a fish gasping for air and, for a few moments, Blaine and Peter eyed each other warily. Neal briefly considered pinching himself since this whole thing didn't seem like it could possibly be real. Maybe he'd wake up back in his prison cell and none of this had ever happened. And wouldn't that be something?

Peter recovered his voice first. "Brother? You don't have a brother."

Neal smiled wanly. "I think I'd know if I had siblings, Peter." He nodded at Blaine. "Which I do."

"So is this part of what you've been up to in New York since you abandoned us?" Blaine demanded at last, gesturing at Peter. "This whole new life you created without your family?"

_I have a family_, Neal wanted to say as images of Peter and Elizabeth, Mozzie and June, Sara, Diana and Jones all flashed across his mind. But looking at his brother's face, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Yes," he said instead. "And I never meant for you to find out like this."

"Find out what?"

"Everything," Neal replied with a shrug. There was eight years' worth to tell, after all. "But this is not the place for that conversation."

Blaine opened his mouth to argue—Neal knew that expression, even if the face it was on had matured so much since the last time he'd seen it—but the bell signaling the end of lunch cut him off. Blaine flinched sharply at the sound but didn't back off. "You are _not _getting out of this. Not now."

"I know." He thought for a moment. "Remember that spot in the park, down by the water? Where—"

"You used to paint," Blaine finished. The kid sounded a bit bitter. "I remember."

Neal nodded. "Meet me there after school. Those benches are off the beaten path. I promise, we'll talk."

"How do I know you're not going to run? _Again_?"

Neal shrugged uncomfortably. For all that he could con just about anyone with his charm, he just couldn't do that to his brother. Not after everything. For once, he intended to be completely honest. Blaine deserved at least that much—especially with what was coming for Neal.

"I won't."

"I won't let him," Peter added, breaking his silence. "Because I want some answers, too. I think we're in the same boat there, kid."

Blaine frowned suspiciously but finally nodded. Peter had that trustworthy quality about hi—one Neal couldn't quite duplicate—that doubtless came from actually being an honest guy. Blaine strode across the stage and Neal grabbed his arm as he passed.

"After school. I mean it."

Blaine jerked his arm out of Neal's grasp but nodded before snatching his bag from the ground where he'd left it during the song. He headed for the back stage exit, and Neal supposed he had to take that scene for the small victory it was.

Once the stage door clanked shut, Neal's shoulders dropped. He sat down on the edge of the stage and rubbed his face through his hands. After a moment, Peter sat down next to him, a warm and familiar presence that Neal had taken for granted over the last couple of years. He was on the verge of losing it again with Kramer bearing down, but, for the moment, Neal was happy to take in the comfort of his friend's presence.

"You look like crap," Peter said at last. "The v-neck is definitely not up to your usual standards."

Neal huffed a laugh. God he was exhausted all of a sudden. He'd never meant to bring his old and new lives into a collision course by coming back to Ohio. He always seemed to get caught when he made bad decisions based on sentimentality.

"Better than an orange jumpsuit," he retorted. Though wearing designer suits in Lima, Ohio was bound to get just as many looks. Then again, he would get looks no matter what he wore.

"Or an anklet?"

"Depends on the radius."

Peter chuckled at that, but it was true. Neal would have been all right whether his sentence had been commuted or not before Kramer messed everything up. He had a life in New York. He had a job he liked, people he cared about, a place to come home to at night, and, for once, he didn't feel completely hollow like one of his aliases. Though Neal Caffrey wasn't exactly his real name, but the life? That was his.

All the years he'd been running those big cons to get Kate's attention, the scores had been empty without someone to share them with. For the longest time, there had been a giant Kate-sized hole in his heart—first after she had left him and then again after her death—but letting people in had finally started to heal that.

"So, the kid?"

"Blaine."

"Blaine. Your brother?"

Neal sighed at looked out over the auditorium. "You once told me that my life before my eighteenth birthday was a gaping hole for you."

"I remember." Peter had been endlessly frustrated about not being able to crack the puzzle that was Neal's childhood when he'd known all about him as an adult before catching him.

"Well, this is it."

"This?" Peter asked, gesturing at the room.

"Well, not _this _specifically," Neal replied with a small eye roll. "But Lima. This is where I was born."

"And that's why you came back?"

Neal finally looked over at Peter, who was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "I meant to disappear. But I had to settle things with my brother first. And then Mozzie and I were headed for some island that's not on a map."

"So what happened that was worth risking Kramer hunting you down before you got out of the country?" Peter asked, turning to face Neal full on.

Neal sighed. There was no way he was going to get out of this, though he supposed Peter deserved to know. He pushed himself to his feet. "Let's go get a coffee."

* * *

><p>"Tell me again why we're skipping class so you can look up some random FBI agent," Kurt said, leaning forward dramatically. He was sitting at the computer next to Blaine in the library, watching his search curiously but still sounding put-upon.<p>

"_I'm_ skipping class to look up an FBI agent who just showed up in the auditorium to talk to my brother," Blaine retorted, clicking on another news article about Peter Burke of New York's White Collar division of the FBI. "You're here because you're, and I quote, 'The best boyfriend ever.' That and you'd rather skip gym."

It hadn't taken Blaine long to find the agent in question. A quick search for Peter Burke brought up the FBI's New York field office page as well as numerous links to articles about Burke's ninety-four percent conviction rate. He was still working on his brother's connection to him, though. Cooper had said he was Burke's partner, but Blaine hadn't found any indication that Burke had a partner; he led a well-respected team, yes, but nothing about a partner.

"I still don't know why seniors have to take gym," Kurt groaned, pulling Blaine from his thoughts. "It wasn't required at Dalton."

Blaine rolled his eyes at that and nudged Kurt gently with his elbow. "You could have stayed."

"And so could you," Kurt countered.

"I'm not the one complaining," Blaine reminded him. There were days at McKinley when he wanted nothing more than to be back at Dalton with the Warblers, but he knew he was doing the right thing here, facing the past he'd run away from to Dalton in the first place. And he was finding a new home with New Directions.

And, of course, there was Kurt.

"Touché." Kurt sighed. "So what have you found?"

"Just a bunch of articles about the guy's convictions."

"And your brother said they were partners?" Blaine nodded and Kurt frowned. "That's so weird. He doesn't…" He trailed off but Blaine knew what he meant.

"Seem the type?" he finished and Kurt nodded.

The Cooper Anderson that had descended on McKinley was a whirlwind. He was high-strung and egotistical, but that hadn't been the Cooper that Blaine remembered growing up. It had been years since Cooper had left for New York, and considering he'd cut ties with his family, Blaine's suspicions flared immediately at his return. The performance in the auditorium only cemented that. Something was going on, and Blaine was determined to get to the bottom of it before his brother disappeared again, possibly for good this time.

"He was always a good actor," Blaine murmured, scanning an older newspaper article. It was likely the local celebrity caricature was just a front for whatever Cooper was really dealing with. And whatever that was had something to do with this Agent Peter Burke, Blaine was sure.

Kurt hummed in what could have been agreement, but Blaine could tell he'd tuned out. Kurt, like the rest of McKinley and the New Directions, had been completely star-struck the moment they laid eyes on Cooper and were happy to bask in his fame. Blaine shook his head to himself and turned his focus back to the computer screen. He frowned and clicked on an article dated six years earlier. His jaw dropped.

"Oh my god."

* * *

><p>Neal was slumped down in the passenger seat of Peter's rental car in front of the Lima Bean. He had on a fedora and sunglasses and just hoped no one would look too closely as they passed by. Peter had given him an odd look when he'd refused to go into the shop but had gone in to get coffee for two anyway. Neal jumped when the driver's side door opened but sighed in relief when Peter handed him a coffee as he slid behind the wheel.<p>

"Thanks."

Peter nodded and took a sip of his drink. "No one recognized you?"

Neal blinked and Peter smirked. "I know about the commercials. How do you think I found you, _Cooper_?"

Heat flared up in Neal's cheeks. He probably should have been more surprised than embarrassed that Peter had seen them, but his logic wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders at the moment. "Diana and Jones?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"Oh, they know."

Neal groaned and Peter laughed. "I was watching late night TV the other night—a whole nostalgia block, complete with old commercials. And guess what happened to come on?" Neal sunk deeper into his seat because there were really no words for that. "Needless to say, I was surprised. So I did a little digging and saw that ad and several others were credited to one Cooper Anderson of Lima, Ohio."

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

"Gut instinct."

Neal raised an eyebrow at that. "Gut instinct?"

Peter nodded. "Gut instinct. And the McKinley High newspaper article about how a local celebrity was visiting the school. I had no idea you had a brother that was a student, though."

Neal turned that over in his mind and shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Now, where are we headed?"

"The park."

The drive was silent except for Neal's directions. Neal could tell Peter was holding a lot back to give him some space to think, which was more than Neal figured he deserved, but he appreciated it anyway.

Peter finally pulled the car into an empty parking spot. The park was mercifully quiet in the middle of a weekday. Neal, coffee in hand, got out of the car and waved at Peter to follow him. His feet took him through the paths by muscle memory. Though eight years had passed, the park was largely unchanged from how he remembered it. They found the water-side benches, situated slightly off the path and snug among a copse of trees, easily enough.

Neal had loved this spot when he was younger—back when he was Cooper. He'd bring a sketchpad or an easel and draw or paint for hours. Sometimes he'd bring Blaine with him; his last few visits to the park had seen Neal painting while a young Blaine practiced the guitar he'd just started learning. Blaine didn't know it, but Neal still had some sketches of the kid strumming, his eyes shut and a big grin on his face. They were in sketchbooks he'd held onto but managed to keep even Peter from finding.

The two men took a seat and watched the ducks and trailing ducklings glide across the pond.

"So this is a piece of Neal Caffrey's childhood," Peter said at last, eyeing the park as tough he might be able to solve the puzzle that was his partner if he found just the right clue.

"Cooper Anderson's," Neal replied with a shake of his head. "Neal Caffrey didn't exist until I left home at eighteen."

"I see," Peter said thoughtfully.

"I forged a new identity and left Cooper Anderson in Ohio."

"Why am I not surprised?" Peter muttered with a shake of his head. "Is that why your brother doesn't seem thrilled to see you?"

Neal sighed. "It's a long story, but yes."

Peter glanced down at his watch. "We've got time before school's out."

Neal leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his arms hung loose between his legs. It was almost easy to pretend no time had passed and that there was a sketchbook at his side. Almost.

"Blaine is ten years younger than me," Neal said at last. He glanced at Peter. "I told you my father was a dirty cop."

Peter nodded.

"He died—" _or maybe not_, Neal thought with a pang; that was a fact he hadn't had time to process yet and was shoving down as deep as he could. Neal shook his head to clear his thoughts. "He died shortly after my mother got pregnant with Blaine. She raised us on her own."

Peter frowned. "I thought you said he'd died when you were two."

Neal shrugged. "It's been easier to think that way. Seemed a little bit less like he abandoned us, I guess."

"So you're trying to con yourself," Peter deduced, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess so."

"And how's that working out?"

Neal snorted. "Considering it's a lie that doesn't even make sense? Not so well." He took a sip of lukewarm coffee. "Anyway, I dropped out of high school at sixteen. Mom was struggling to make ends meet with two boys, and I hated school."

"The path of the genius," Peter murmured under his breath.

And that was somewhat true, actually. None of Neal's classes had been challenging and McKinley offered very few advanced options at the time. He'd spent more time sleeping or skipping class than studying—except for art classes, which he'd aced. He took as many as he could, soaking up everything from history to technique and style. His very first forgery had been an art project. But eventually he'd taken all the art classes the school offered and there hadn't been a reason to stay.

"I took on odd jobs for about a year, helping support the family," Neal said over Peter's commentary. "I also kept painting."

"And forging."

"That, too." He rolled his shoulders. In hindsight he knew he'd been running a major risk with those back alley jobs. But they'd also shaped the person he was now, for better or worse. "Those were some of the first cons I ever ran."

"And your brother?" Peter asked.

"I wanted to make sure he could go to school, take guitar lessons, do whatever I couldn't because we couldn't afford it. But we were never close. What sixteen-year-old is close with a six-year-old, after all?" Peter nodded. "I loved him—still love him, of course. But he was so young when everything fell apart, and I was too busy with my own crap that I didn't bother thinking about how it affected him."

"What happened?" Peter prompted after Neal fell into a thoughtful silence, remembering.

"I joined the police academy at seventeen. I'd heard my mother's stories and wanted to be like my dad. I wanted to make her and Blaine proud." He took another sip, though the coffee had gone cold. "She was also in a serious relationship and I guess I thought it might make her think about my dad again."

"And then you found out the truth."

"After about six months in the program," Neal confirmed with a nod. He could still remember that conversation with his dad's old partner. He'd thought he'd actually felt his heart crack down the center that day. "I couldn't face my mother again after it, knowing she'd been lying to me since I was nine. I pretty much cut ties with her after that. It was rash, I know, but I was a kid and stupid and hurting."

"And Blaine?"

Neal shut his eyes. "I tried to see him a few times after that, but he was eight. He didn't understand. So... finally I cut ties all together." He opened them again. "I even stopped being Cooper Anderson because I couldn't face my family legacy."

Peter considered that for a minute before asking, "Where'd 'Neal Caffrey' come from, anyway?"

Neal sat back on the bench. "Neal was my middle name." Peter raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "Caffrey was the name of the street I grew up on." He tried for a smile. "The best cons have elements of truth to them, you know."

"So I've heard." Peter shook his head but there was no judgment on his face, just curiosity.

Once again Neal was struck by how lucky he was to have the man as a friend. He thought he'd known plenty about him when Peter had been hunting him, but that was nothing compared to what he'd learned working side-by-side with him, being invited into his home and his personal life. He'd never told anyone, not even Kate, the truth about his life before New York but it seemed right telling Peter.

"So you changed your name. What about the ad?"

Neal winced. "Ah, that." As much as he hated being recognized for the damn thing, his cover for coming home had been research for a new role. He couldn't get away from it not matter how hard he tried, but at least the flamboyant actor con _was_ one of his favorites that he didn't get to pull too often.

"A guy I'd met during some of those odd jobs knew a guy who was hiring. I did a few different ads—as Cooper—until I made enough money to get Neal out to New York. Took a couple of years since I was living on my own, but Cooper stayed back in Ohio." He shrugged. "And you know the rest."

* * *

><p>Blaine was livid. His head was spinning as he drove toward the park. Kurt had offered to drive him instead, but Blaine had shaken him off, pleading family business. Kurt, of all people, understood that. But he was starting to regret not having a driver who was seeing the road straight.<p>

His brother was a felon. His brother had been in _prison_ for four years. He was an art thief. A conman.

Blaine couldn't wrap his head around it. He knew Cooper had fallen out with their mother when he'd found out about their father being dirty—something Blaine hadn't understood until several years later when he'd been old enough. But if he couldn't handle having a criminal for a father, why turn criminal himself? It just didn't make sense.

And why come back now?

He needed answers but he was very tempted to smash his fist into Cooper's—no, _Neal's_,since that was the name he was going by now—face first. Just on principle.

He pulled into the park's parking lot, taking the turnoff faster than he should have. He slammed the car into park and grabbed his bag and the article before heading for the benches he'd planned to meet his brother at. As he got closer, he heard voices that he recognized as Cooper and the FBI agent—Burke.

"So you changed your name. What about the ad?" Burke was saying. It sounded like they'd been talking for a while then.

"Ah, that," Cooper said, chagrined. That sounded much more like the Cooper Blaine recognized rather than the one his friends had met at the school. And now he knew why; they'd met Neal Caffrey, conman extraordinaire, not Cooper Anderson. "A guy I'd met during some of those odd jobs knew a guy who was hiring. I did a few different ads—as Cooper—until I made enough money to get Neal out to New York. Took a couple of years since I was living on my own, but Cooper stayed back in Ohio." A pause. "And you know the rest."

Blaine stepped up behind them at that. "But I don't," he interjected.

Both men started in surprise turned around look at him.

"Blaine—" Cooper started once he'd found his voice.

But Blaine needed to know. He thrust the paper into his brother's hands. Cooper inhaled sharply when he realized what it was, which told Blaine what he needed to know.

"Want to explain this?" Blaine demanded, pointing at the article about Neal Caffrey's arrest six years before, complete with mug shot.

Cooper's mouth worked as he held it out so Burke could see it. The agent made a soft "Oh" sound and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Good.

"Where did you get this?" Cooper asked finally, answering his brother with his own question.

"Internet," Blaine hissed. "Because apparently I have to find out you're an ex-con named Neal Caffrey from a newspaper article!"

"Blaine, I—"

But Blaine was having none of it. He needed to know. "Does Mom know?"

"About Neal Caffrey?" Blaine nodded tightly. "No. Or at least I don't think so. I haven't heard from her since the day I moved out." Cooper shook his head, voice sounding tired all of a sudden. That, more than anything, stopped Blaine's anger in its tracks. "As far as she's concerned, I'm probably dead."

"You're not," Blaine said softly. Cooper frowned up at him and Blaine shrugged. "I told her about the cards."

On his twelfth birthday, Blaine had received a birthday card and an expensive-looking fedora from a New York address. He hadn't known what to make of it, so he'd shown his mother. She'd stared at the card for several silent moments before breaking down in tears. Blaine hadn't known what was going on, but then she'd taken his hand and smiled through her tears and said, _"It's your brother, honey. That's Cooper's handwriting. He's in New York…"_

For the next two years, Blaine would get a postcard every few months with a little note but no signature—sometimes from New York, sometimes from other exotic locations. The postcards had stopped—which Blaine now realized coincided with his brother's arrest—but every year he continued to receive a birthday card and a present.

"Oh." Cooper didn't seem to have a reply to that and fell into a thoughtful silence.

"I sent you an invitation to the wedding, you know." Their mother had remarried when Blaine was thirteen. Blaine liked Steve well enough, but he hadn't been very supportive when Blaine had come out. He'd even thought working on a car might straighten his stepson out. When that failed, he wasn't outwardly cold about Blaine's sexuality, but it was clear he wasn't comfortable with it either.

"I know." Cooper gave him a sad smile. "But I couldn't come."

"Right. Because coming when Cooper's family needed him was the last thing on Neal Caffrey's mind."

Cooper flinched and Blaine felt a vindictive pleasure at the sight. He didn't normally let himself feel so malicious, but years of pent up feelings were all threatening to boil to the surface.

"Who do you think paid for your Dalton tuition?" Cooper said quietly.

It took a moment for Blaine's brain to catch up to his ears. "What?"

"I got your letter about being bullied. I was in the middle of… a big job," Cooper said, choosing his words carefully with a sideways glance at Burke. "But I'd gotten a chunk of money and knew about Dalton. I got the material and filled out an application for you myself."

Besides the wedding invitation, one of the few things Blaine had sent to his brother's New York address was a letter after he'd come out. He was being bullied at school and Steve wasn't helping, so he'd just needed to vent. He'd never gotten a response, but it wasn't long after that that he'd been accepted to Dalton.

Burke pursed his lips at that but didn't say anything. Cooper spared a sheepish look for him before turning back to Blaine.

"I asked the school to call the money I paid a scholarship so Mom wouldn't find out." Cooper shrugged. "It seemed like the only thing I could really do for you at that point."

Blaine gaped at that, completely at a loss for words. Getting the letter from Dalton, complete with word that his tuition would be covered when he hadn't even filled out an application, was the biggest and best surprise of his life.

"I thought Mom…"

But Cooper shook his head. "Look, I know I haven't been around and that I left when you needed me. I was selfish and have made a lot of bad decisions that are still catching up with me." He glanced at Burke, who nodded, and his voice seemed to gain strength at the show of support. "But I want you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. I came back to make sure you knew that."

Blaine opened his mouth to ask what that was supposed to mean, but his phone rang. Cooper nodded at him to go ahead and take it. With a sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, ready to tell Kurt that this wasn't a good time, but he didn't recognize the number. He frowned and clicked the Accept button.

"Hello?"

"Blaine Anderson?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

"Yes?"

"My name is Agent Kramer. I'm with the FBI. You haven't happened to see your brother in the last week, have you?"

Blaine blinked, unsure. On the one hand, he was standing across from an FBI agent that seemed to be close to his brother. But the name Kramer seemed familiar…

His eyes widened as he remembered the conversation from earlier that afternoon.

"_Kramer's got the best FBI head hunters lining up to sniff out your trail, wise guy. He's not letting this go."_

"_How long?" _

"_A day. Two at most."_

"_There's no reason for them to find me here, Peter."_

"Blaine? Are you there, son?"

Cooper and Burke frowned at his expression. _What is it?_ Cooper mouthed.

"Yessir," Blaine replied quickly, shaking his head at Cooper. "I'm sorry. I haven't talked to my brother in nearly ten years. He walked out on me and my mother and never looked back. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

Cooper's eyes went wide and he looked over at Burke, who also seemed startled.

"Oh no, son," Kramer said with false cheeriness. "Your brother's been a great friend of the FBI but seems to have run off. We just want to bring him back to New York safely."

The more he listened, the more Blaine could hear the lie for what it was. "I'm sorry I can't help you," he said.

"No problem. It was a long-shot anyway. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Please let me know if you do find him."

"Of course."

Blaine swallowed and hung up the phone. He looked at Cooper, who was visibly collecting himself.

"That was Kramer, wasn't it?" his brother asked. His voice was surprisingly calm.

"Yeah."

Cooper looked at him like he'd never seen him before. "But you covered for me. Why?"

Blaine shrugged. "Because you're my big brother."

"Neal, if Kramer's in touch with Blaine, a team won't be far behind," Burke said.

Cooper nodded, though he didn't take his eyes off Blaine. "Yeah, I know."

Burke clenched his jaw. "You need to get out."

"What'll happen if he catches you?" Blaine asked. "What did you do?"

Cooper shook his head, but it was Burke who spoke. "It's a long story, but Neal's been my CI for the last couple of years. We've done good work in the White Collar division together. He's really making a difference. But Agent Kramer wants Neal as _his_ CI. If he catches Neal, he's going to pin a whole bunch of crimes on him and take him back to D.C. to work for him for the rest of his sentence."

"Which would be how long?" Blaine wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Life, probably," Cooper said quietly. "At least Kramer's life, anyway."

It took a moment for that information to process, but rather than be angry, Blaine felt surprisingly determined. "Well, we can't let him catch you, then."

"Blaine?" Cooper had a startlingly hopeful look on his face.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Blaine asked instead.

Burke turned to look at him. "My question exactly."

Cooper shrugged and glanced at Burke. "Mozzie has somewhere in mind. He's waiting on me in Cleveland. We can leave any time."

"Then go," Blaine said. "But I'll be expecting a postcard."

The genuine smile—so different from the one from the halls of McKinley to anyone who _knew_—that broke out on Cooper's face was nearly blinding and told Blaine he'd made the right call.

* * *

><p>Neal stood with Peter and Blaine on the tarmac as he waited for Mozzie to arrive. It was nearly midnight, but the con had promised transportation to their Isle de Freedom. An approaching whirr had the unlikely trio looking up into the sky, and it took several beats for Neal to realize what he was seeing. As the helicopter descended, Mozzie's outline behind the wheel became clear and Neal let out a relieved sigh.<p>

"He sure knows how to make an entrance," Peter said, trying to sound long-suffering but coming across more fond than anything.

"He sure does," Neal agreed with a bittersweet smile.

"Is that your friend?" Blaine asked.

Neal nodded. "That's Mozzie."

As the helicopter set down, Neal grabbed Peter's arm. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. He didn't know when—or if—he'd ever see the man again. There was just too much…

But the sound of sirens had them all whirling around to see blinking red and blue lights speeding toward them. Neal's breath caught in his throat as he felt Kramer's noose tightening with his approach.

"Damn, they move fast," Peter growled. "Neal, you have to go."

Neal's stomach clenched but he nodded. "Please, Peter." He swallowed and nodded toward his brother. "Give Blaine the answers about me that I can't. You know me better than anyone. And don't lie about it. He deserves the truth. I've hidden from him for long enough."

"You got it. Just _go_. I'll try to sort this out so you can come home."

Neal nodded his thanks as the sirens sounded through the previously still night.

"Neal, hurry up!" Mozzie called, barely audible over the whirring blades of the helicopter. "Senor Suit is on the way!"

He waved at Mozzie then turned to his brother. "I'm so sorry about, well, everything, kiddo."

Blaine shook his head. "It doesn't matter now."

Neal swallowed and nodded. "Peter's going to stick around a bit, help you out when the Feds get here. And he'll answer any questions you have about what I've been up to. I told him to tell you everything, all right? No more running."

Blaine smiled but there were tears in the corners of his eyes. "Thank you. Now _go,_" he said, pushing Neal toward the helicopter.

Neal managed to wrap an arm around his brother's shoulder for a short moment as the police vans sped around the corner of the air traffic control building. "Tell Mom I said hello," he whispered into Blaine's ear. And then he took off running for the helicopter.

"Caffrey, freeze!" Kramer yelled as he jumped from the van. "You're under arrest!"

But Neal kept his eyes trained on the helicopter and Mozzie. "Moz, lift off!" he yelled.

The other man nodded and revved the helicopter's engine before starting her upward. Neal heard a gun go off and the bullet whizzed past his shoulder a yard wide, but that only spurred him on. He tossed his small bag into the open side of the helicopter and jumped in as it hovered about four feet off the ground.

"Nice landing," Mozzie called over his shoulder as the helicopter took off into the night.

"Go!" Neal yelled back.

The Feds were still firing shots at them, but the last thing Neal caught was Peter putting an arm around Blaine's shoulders as Kramer stalked toward them. He sighed in relief as they pulled out of range and crawled into the front seat. He pulled on the headset as Mozzie gave him a look.

"That was way too close, Neal." He shook his head. "I hope it was worth it."

And Neal finally let himself smile. "Yeah, it was."

* * *

><p><em>fin<em>


	2. Timestamp: South From That Place

**Author's Note:** Just a brief little timestamp. The title comes from Mumford & Sons' "Ghosts That We Knew."

**Summary:** It was a month after Cooper's dramatic escape from Lima that Blaine got a postcard.

* * *

><p><strong>South from that Place<strong>

* * *

><p>It was a month after Cooper's dramatic air escape from Lima that Blaine got a postcard. There was no signature, but Blaine would recognize the scrawled <em>Good luck at Nationals<em> anywhere. It was the same handwriting from all those anonymous postcards he'd gotten while Cooper—or Neal, since Blaine, despite knowing and accepting the truth, still had a hard time reconciling the brother he'd grown up idolizing with a world renowned art thief, forger, and overall con artist—had been evading arrest in New York and abroad. He grinned for a moment, impressed that his brother knew that Nationals were a week and pleased that he'd actually taken the time to send something despite being on the run.

The palm tree on the front of the card also told him that his brother was still breathing free air—or at least had been when he'd sent the card. And that confirmation was a major relief. Blaine had been keeping an eye on the news—both national and New York—even creating a news alert for "Neal Caffrey" for any hint of his brother's whereabouts. Agent Burke promised to call if he heard anything and Blaine promised the same. But with radio silence on all fronts, Blaine could only hope Cooper was sitting on a beach somewhere Kramer would never find him, sipping an umbrella drink and getting a tan.

After Cooper's escape, Kramer and his team had done their best to tear apart Blaine's and his parents' lives apart in an effort to find Cooper—to find _Neal_. Their mother had been heartbroken to learn the truth and had nearly shut down as a result but for Steve's support. But in the last couple of weeks, she had taken to muttering about the apple not falling far from the tree when she didn't think anyone was listening.

Blaine tried not to think that she might be waiting for him to turn criminal like his father and brother.

Meanwhile, Agent Burke had done his best to fill in the blanks about Cooper's life since he'd gotten to New York eight years before. He hadn't held back, as promised. Burke told him about Neal's friends Mozzie and Alex, his enemies Adler and Keller, his lovers Kate and Sara, and rogue agents Fowler and Kramer. He talked about hunting Neal for three years, the four years Neal spent in prison, and the strange, tenuous partnership that had turned into a lifelong friendship.

But rather than spook Blaine, as both Burke and Cooper had clearly feared, finding out about his brother's life had only made Blaine more certain about the decision he'd made in that park to cover for Cooper. He couldn't explain why, but it did, especially in light of their mother unofficially disowning Cooper.

So while the rumors flew around Lima and strange looks followed him down the halls of McKinley, Blaine was more at peace with how things were in his life than he'd been in years. Kurt and the other members of New Directions had tried to act supportive when the truth had come out, almost as though his brother had died or something, but he hadn't needed it. None of them seemed to believe him, though.

Blaine checked the postmark on the card but immediately discarded the Hawaii mark as his brother's location. Cooper wouldn't be dumb enough to send a postcard out of his hiding place. He would know the Feds had an eye on the Anderson house in case of any communication.

Hell, they had probably already seen this and only let it pass on to him because the lead had gone nowhere.

Cooper also wouldn't be dumb enough to stop at Hawaii. No, he would have found some island that wasn't on a map and holed up—so-to-speak, or at least Blaine hoped.

But despite all of that, Blaine was thankful to his brother for the gesture. He was putting himself at risk with any communication, but he was also keeping his promise from that night. And that meant more than Blaine could ever put into words. Somehow, it told him that the brothers Anderson would be all right in the end. Agent Burke would figure something out and bring Cooper home. After all their talks in the week and a half the agent had remained behind in Lima with the Andersons, Blaine had come to see why Cooper trusted the man so implicitly and felt safe doing the same.

And with the possibility of Cooper coming back home and Kurt planning a move to New York for college, Blaine could see his future taking shape. He had to believe it would work out.

After staring at the postcard for a good half an hour, Blaine picked up his phone and dialed.

"Agent Burke? It's Blaine. I heard from him…"

* * *

><p><em>- fin -<em>


	3. Timestamp: After the Storm

**Author's Note:** Neal returning to New York in _White Collar_ canon seemed like the perfect opportunity to add another timestamp to this 'verse. Spoilers for _White Collar _4.02 and all of _Glee_ season 3. Title comes from the Mumford and Sons song of the same name.

**Summary: **Blaine gets a call when Peter gets a lead on Cooper/Neal's whereabouts.

* * *

><p><strong>After the Storm<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaine and Kurt were sitting in the Lima Bean, Kurt mulling over his options for the future for the umpteenth time since graduation, when Blaine's phone started buzzing. He grabbed the phone off the table with an apologetic glance at his boyfriend, and then nearly fell from his chair at the name on the caller ID: <em>Agent Burke.<em>

"You all right?" Kurt asked with a curious glance. "It's not Sebastian, is it?" His lip curled up at the name, though he'd made an effort to be more open-minded about him after all the work he'd done in honor of Karofsky's attempted suicide.

Blaine shook his head. "You know we're barely speaking," he replied absently as his phone continued to buzz in his hand.

While he'd been hoping to hear from Agent Burke again, as he'd promised to call if there were any leads on Cooper's—no, Neal's—whereabouts, he was suddenly terrified about what he might hear. Neal Caffrey had skyrocketed up the FBI's Most Wanted list. And Blaine still had a hard time wrapping his head around danger like that.

"After you nearly lost an eye, I'd hope so," Kurt muttered. This was a conversation they'd had more than once since Blaine was hurt, so he tuned his boyfriend out.

He took a breath and accepted the call. "Hello?"

"_Blaine? It's Agent Burke._"

"Agent Burke." Kurt's eyebrows rose at that and Blaine instinctually turned away from him for some semblance of privacy. Though Kurt had tried to be supportive with the news of Cooper's escape, he just didn't get it. "Did something happen?"

"_Yes,_" the agent said, sounding slightly breathless. "_I think I know where he is_."

"What? How?" Blaine's thoughts started running wildly, worst case scenarios immediately coming to mind. "Is he okay?"

"_An FBI bounty hunter is on his trail, but I managed to warn him._"

"Oh." Blaine didn't really know what to say to that. But it meant his brother was still safe. For now.

"_My team was able to use the phone call to track him down. I'm on my way to the airport right now._"

Blaine bit his lip. "Can you help him?" he asked finally. His brother trusted the agent, and Blaine had come to see why after Cooper had fled, but it still felt strange to leave his brother's fate in a stranger's hands—even ones as capable and trustworthy as Peter Burke's. He just wished he could do _something_.

"_Blaine, I'm going to do everything in my power to help him._" He sounded like he meant it. And it wasn't that Blaine didn't think he would; it was just that there were a lot more people conspiring against Cooper than for him. What could one man do in the face of the federal government?

"Okay," Blaine said. "Okay. Just… be careful. And tell him that I miss him."

"_I promise_," the agent replied. "_I'll let you know as soon as I know anything._"

"Thank you."

Blaine ended the call and looked back up at Kurt, who was watching him thoughtfully. "Is it your brother?" he asked.

"Agent Burke thinks he knows where Cooper is. He's on his way to find him right now."

Kurt had a frustratingly sympathetic look on his face. "Blaine," he started, sounding like he wanted to reason with a stubborn child.

But Blaine cut him off. "Kurt, you know I love you, so please don't take this the wrong way," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "But you really don't understand the situation."

Kurt was clearly taken aback by that. "But—"

Blaine stuck his phone in his pocket and pulled his backpack over his shoulders. School might be out, but he'd come to the Lima Bean from the gym so had workout clothes. He'd been boxing a lot in his spare time this summer while Kurt had been trying to figure out what to do with himself without NYADA. He had a lot of frustration to work out.

"I'm sorry. I just need some time to think." He rounded the table and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "I'll call you later."

"Yeah, all right," Kurt replied softly as Blaine left the coffee shop.

* * *

><p>When Blaine walked into the kitchen, his mother threw an annoyed glance his way. "I got another call from Agent Collins," she muttered as she washed dishes.<p>

Blaine blinked. "What did he want?" Collins had made a point of visiting their house and combing through their lives after Cooper had vanished. He'd told them he was working with Kramer, which didn't endear him to Mrs. Anderson.

"To know if Cooper had any connections in the Cape Verde Islands." She scrubbed the pot in her hands with a little more force than was probably necessary, but Blaine didn't comment. Cooper's name had been a trigger for her since she'd learned the truth. "I don't even know where that is. Leave it to your brother to get our lives tangled up in his mess," she grumbled.

Blaine headed for the laundry room, but it wasn't until he was dumping his gym clothes in the washing machine that it hit him. Agent Collins must be the bounty hunter Agent Burke had warned Cooper about. He froze, detergent in hand and mouth agape.

He hadn't even remotely liked the man while he'd butted into their lives in a vain search for clues about Cooper's whereabouts. Collins hadn't made an effort to be likeable either, practically bullying Blaine to tell the truth about the night of the escape until Blaine's stepfather had put a stop to it.

"_You do what you need to find Neal Caffrey, but bullying a 17-year-old to do it is out of line. Blaine's a minor and he's told you everything he knows, so please get out of my house,"_ he'd said. It hadn't been a request. Blaine and Steve had never been close, but Blaine had never loved his stepfather so much as in that moment.

Blaine took in a shuddering breath and poured detergent into the laundry. He hoped Agent Burke knew what he was doing.

* * *

><p>Days passed without a word and Blaine worried. He'd become attached to his phone, waiting for a call. Kurt had tried to coax him out of his obsession to see a movie or get a coffee, but Blaine had refused. He promised himself that he'd made it up to his boyfriend later, but he couldn't concentrate until he knew his brother was okay.<p>

Nearly a week later, Blaine sat in his room, clicking absently through Facebook, when a new Skype video call popped up. He frowned, expecting it to be Kurt, only to realize he didn't recognize the caller. He accepted the call with a mixture of trepidation and hope. When the caller popped into view, Blaine's eyes widened.

"Cooper!"

"Hey Blaine," his brother replied. He looked tired and had an unfamiliar beard, but otherwise seemed unharmed. Blaine didn't recognize the background, though it looked like a spacious apartment. "Thanks for taking my call."

"When I didn't recognize the number, I was hoping it might be you," Blaine admitted with a shrug.

"Lucky you." There was a spark of mischief in Cooper's eye that gave Blaine a huge dose of comfort.

"Where are you?" Blaine demanded. "Are you all right?" He needed to know.

Cooper smiled. "I'm fine, kiddo. I'm back in New York, actually." He waved an arm at his surroundings. "Back in my old apartment and everything."

Blaine's shoulders sagged in relief at that. "So Agent Burke found you."

An unreadable expression crossed Cooper's face before he plastered the smile on again. "He did."

"But so did Agent Collins," Blaine guessed at the expression.

Cooper frowned suspiciously. "How'd you know about Collins?" Ah, so Collins _had_ been the bounty hunter.

"He came in after Kramer and tore through our lives looking for you." Guilt flashed across Cooper's face at that, but Blaine ignored it. "And then Agent Burke called a few days ago and said someone was after you, so it made sense that it would be him."

"Well, well. I knew my brother was smart," Cooper said, though the good humor was forced.

"What happened, Coop?" Blaine demanded.

Cooper waved an absent hand at the screen. "It's nothing."

Blaine wasn't buying that. "Coop."

Cooper stared at him for a long moment before sighing. "Collins shot me." Blaine's eyes widened and Cooper pressed on quickly before his brother could interject. "I'm fine; it was just in the leg. I'll be walking with a cane for a little while, but otherwise no big deal. Just sucked at the time."

Blaine swallowed. _No big deal_, Cooper Blaine was just a high school student whose life revolved around his boyfriend and glee club. Guns and crime and the FBI were things Blaine had only seen on TV or in movies until a few months before. And now his brother was brushing off getting shot. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

He sighed and pressed on. "So what happened? How are you back in New York?"

Cooper spent the next couple of hours talking about his and Mozzie's time on the island, about Peter and Collins showing up, and about an elaborate con to return him back to New York _not_ in handcuffs. Blaine listened in awe at the story; part of him was sure there was no way this could be real, that Cooper—Neal—was just conning him, but the way Cooper's eyes lit up when he spoke about certain things, like the beach and the architecture and a certain café proprietor, made it seem so real.

"And now I'm back," he finished. "Back on the anklet, working for the White Collar division once again. Same deal as before I ran."

"That's a hell of a story," Blaine said with a shake of his head. Because really, what else can you say to that?

Cooper smirked. "What can I say? I live an interesting life."

"Maybe a little too interesting," Blaine retorted.

Cooper sobered at that and shrugged. "It is what it is, Blaine. And for better or worse, it's _my_ life. And apparently, no one can take that from me. Peter'll make sure of it." He grinned at the thought.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Scout's honor," Cooper replied earnestly, saluting.

"You were never a Boy Scout," Blaine shot back.

Cooper frowned and then shrugged. "It's the thought that counts."

Blaine laughed. He'd forgotten what it was like having a big brother in his life, with Cooper leaving them when Blaine was still young. "So you're going to stay in touch this time, right? Now that you're not on the FBI's Most Wanted list and all."

"Big brother's honor," Cooper replied with another salute. "I mean it, kiddo."

Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but there was a knock on Cooper's end of the call. Cooper grimaced. "Sorry, looks like I have company."

"It's fine," Blaine replied quickly. No doubt his brother had a lot to take care of after coming back to the life he'd dropped in his escape.

"But I mean it, Blaine," Cooper said as there was another knock. "Once a week on the phone. I want to hear all about school and glee club and you getting ready for college."

"It's a date," Blaine agreed, touched by the concern. "Hey Coop?" he added before Cooper could end the call. "I'm glad you're safe."

Cooper's lips twitched at that. "Thanks, little brother. I'll call you later."

Cooper ended the call and Blaine stared at the empty screen for a long moment before grinning. He grabbed his phone and shot off a quick text to Agent Burke.

_Thank you._

And then he called Kurt. He felt like celebrating.

_- fin -_


	4. Miles of Clouded Hell

**Author's Note:** I feel like I need a name for this 'verse the more it blows up on me. Thoughts?

Also, this has gone incredibly AU in terms of Neal's backstory, considering what we learned early on in season 4, but I'll still try to work what I can into the stories. This is also one-hundred percent a reaction fic to _Glee_ 4x04, so fair warning for spoilers. It takes place early on in _White Collar_ season 4. Story title comes from the Imagine Dragons song "It's Time."

**Summary:** Blaine visits his brother in the wake of his fight with Kurt.

* * *

><p><strong>Miles of Clouded Hell<strong>

* * *

><p>Neal was nursing a cup of coffee with the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him when he heard a timid knock at his door. He frowned; June was out for Sunday brunch, Peter's knock was more forceful, and Mozzie wasn't likely to knock in the first place—or if he did, it would be in Morse Code or something. Anyone else likely would have called before coming over, especially on a weekend. He pushed himself out of his seat, crossed the room, and cautiously cracked the door open.<p>

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with that his eyes were telling him.

"Blaine?" he breathed.

His little brother looked awful. His skin was pale, his normally coiffed hair was a mess of unruly curls, and his usually crisp clothes were disheveled. But it was the look on the kid's face that had Neal throwing the door wide open; Neal had never seen Blaine's eyes looking so vacant. Blaine was an expressive person who wore his heart on his sleeve, and his eyes had always been the best indicator of his mood. Seeing them so empty made something twist painfully in Neal's chest.

"Blaine, what are you doing here?" he asked, pulling his brother into the apartment and shutting the door behind them. "I thought you weren't coming for another couple of weeks?"

Blaine had been planning on spending his fall break in New York City; he was going to stay with Kurt, but spend the days Kurt was working with Neal. Peter had already OKed the plan, also hinting that he'd like the kid to meet El. And who was Neal to deny the lovely Mrs. Burke?

But something had gone wrong, that much was obvious.

Neal steered his brother to the couch and sat him down. Blaine was pliant, moving as Neal directed without so much as blinking. He sat with his hands loose in his lap and his gaze on the floor.

Neal made to rise and grab his brother a glass of water, but Blaine grabbed onto wrist, preventing him from moving. He still hadn't looked up, though. Neal sighed and adjusted himself on the couch, turning to face his brother and pulling a leg under himself.

"You gotta talk to me, Squirt," he said quietly when Blaine remained silent. The quiet, alongside the emptiness in Blaine's face, was making Neal's skin crawl.

"I screwed up, Coop," Blaine finally whispered.

Neal blinked. That was probably the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. "What happened?"

"I did something I don't think I can come back from." Blaine shook his head. "I don't deserve to come back from it." The words, though damning, were eerily devoid of emotion. It was as though Blaine had completely shut down in the wake of whatever had happened.

Neal tried not to let worst case scenarios fly across his mind. He lived in a completely different world than Blaine and something that Neal couldn't come back from would be completely different than something a high school kid couldn't come back from. If only the unease in his chest would let him believe that.

"Blaine, whatever it is—"

"I cheated on Kurt."

Neal's words caught in his throat as the words registered. "Oh, Blaine."

Blaine was a good kid—the best around, as far as Neal was concerned, not that he was biased or anything—and he loved Kurt. Whenever they spoke on Skype or on the phone, Neal always teased Blaine about being so stupidly head-over-heels for his boyfriend. But in truth, Neal was happy for him. Neal had lost the love of his life and never wanted his brother to hurt like that. He wanted the true love for Blaine that he himself had lost in an explosion two and a half years earlier.

"We hadn't been talking much since Kurt left," Blaine said, still in that dead voice. "I mean, we talked, but mostly Kurt talked at me about how much he loved New York and how happy he was to be away from Lima."

Oh. That couldn't have felt good.

"And then he got that job at . He was living his dream."

"Without you," Neal prompted. Blaine nodded tightly.

"The last time we talked on the phone, he, uh, he hung up on me telling him I loved him."

And really, what could you say to that? Neal bit his lip. "Blaine—"

"It was Friday night and I just…" Blaine continued, his voice cracking with the first hint of emotion since he'd knocked on the door and Neal's chest lurched at the sound. He shook his head and his fingers flexed in his lap. "I just felt so _empty_. I just wanted to feel _something_."

Neal knew the feeling. After Kate had died, he'd been completely hollowed out and never thought he'd be able to fill the Kate-sized hole in his heart. He'd had flashbacks to the explosion that left him completely drained, not that he'd had much to give in the first place, so he'd thrown himself headfirst into work with Peter. He'd taken stupid risks while on the job just to feel alive again, even if it was only for a few moments. It wasn't healthy and could lead to some serious consequences, but Neal got it.

"So I…" Blaine broke off and took a deep breath, visibly collecting himself. "I hooked up with a guy on Facebook."

Neal's jaw dropped and he opened his mouth to yell at his brother because _Jesus Blaine, that's incredibly dangerous! You could have been killed!_ But the words turned to ash in his throat as Blaine finally pulled his gaze from the floor. There was so much agony on his face that Neal couldn't bring himself to add to it. He'd say something later, but now was not the time.

And he knew a cry for help when he heard one.

"Did you sleep with him?" Neal wasn't sure he wanted to know, but figured he should ask anyway.

Blaine swallowed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We went far enough. I knew exactly what I was doing the whole time. I hated myself the entire time, but I didn't _stop_."

"So you came out here to tell Kurt?" Neal guessed. If this had only happened on Friday night…

Blaine nodded miserably. "Mom and Steve are out of town on business again. They left a credit card for emergencies, and I booked a flight as soon as I got home. I just… I couldn't deal with it, with him not knowing that I'd betrayed him."

At least he hadn't tried to hide it, Neal thought. That didn't forgive the incredibly stupid thing Blaine had done, but lying about it would have been even worse. Neal knew a thing or two about having lies come back to bite him in the ass so could respect the direct approach.

"I told him last night. He won't even speak to me. We went to bed last night but neither of us slept. He got up early." Blaine snorted harshly and Neal barely masked a flinch at the sound. "I don't think he could stand to share a bed with me." He shrugged. "I don't think I could either, in his shoes." Blaine dropped his gaze again. "He left not long after I got up."

"And then you came here."

Blaine looked back up, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't know where else to go, Coop."

"I'm glad you did."

Blaine had screwed up royally, but Neal loved the kid and was always going to be on his side. Neal had his fair share of screw ups in his past—some that had gotten him wanted by more than one government, even—but Blaine had taken his side even after learning that his brother was an infamous art forger and con man. That was what brothers were for.

And besides, Neal had a feeling there weren't many people in Blaine's life that would be on his side when it came to something like this.

And as though the kind words were too much, Blaine's face crumpled completely and he launched himself at his brother. Neal braced himself against the couch at the sudden impact, but then wrapped his arms around Blaine as the kid's shoulders heaved with broken sobs. Neal rocked Blaine gently as he remembered their mother doing for him, back before their lives had gone to hell, and felt his heart break alongside his brother's.

* * *

><p>Neal put down the crossword he'd been trying, and failing spectacularly, to concentrate on and rose from his seat when he heard the second knock on his door that day. This knock was more forceful than the one that had turned his day on its head only a couple of hours before. He carefully avoided bumping the couch as he walked over to the door. When he opened it Peter stepped in, dressed down in a gray t-shirt, jeans, and a stern look.<p>

"What's so important that you couldn't tell me on the phone?" he asked.

Neal shut the door and put a finger to his lips, nodding at the couch. Peter's eyes widened as he took in Blaine's sleeping form. Neal had covered him with a quilt after he'd fallen asleep and the kid hadn't moved since, his slow breathing the only sign of life considering his pallor.

Peter looked back at Neal, who just inclined his head toward the balcony. He wasn't going to wake Blaine up now that he'd finally fallen asleep. The kid was worn out, both physically and emotionally, and needed what little rest he could get. Peter pursed his lips but nodded, following Neal outside. Neal made sure to stand where he could see the couch through the window, just in case.

"Why is your brother here, Neal?" Peter demanded in a low voice. "I thought he was coming in a couple of weeks."

"So did I," Neal replied, running a weary hand through his hair. "But he showed up at my door a couple of hours ago."

"What happened?"

Neal sighed and gave Peter an abbreviated account of what Blaine had told him. The details weren't important—and they were Blaine's to tell, anyway. "He cried himself out about half an hour ago and finally fell asleep. I don't think he could have gotten any sleep until he completely exhausted himself."

Peter glanced back at Blaine again before turning to Neal. "And then you called me."

Neal nodded. "Peter, you know I'm happy to see him and want to help, but this," he said, gesturing to his apartment, "is not a good place for him. Not right now."

It wasn't safe for a teenager with everything that had happened recently, especially with Ellen getting ready to leave with the Marshalls again. He couldn't bring himself to put his brother at risk, especially when they'd finally reconciled after so long apart.

"He needs to get home." Neal shook his head. "I can't imagine what my mother would do if she knew where he was right now. I'm not exactly her favorite person these days."

Peter nodded. "So what are you asking me to do here, Neal?"

Neal stuck his leg out and smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'd take him myself, but the airport isn't exactly in my radius."

Peter cracked a smile at that, clearly thinking about the times Neal's radius hadn't meant anything to him. "True enough."

Neal gave his own smile at the same thoughts before shrugging. "I want to let him get some more sleep, but he needs to get home tonight. Hell, he has school tomorrow." Peter barked a laugh and Neal raised an eyebrow. "Share with the class?"

"Sorry," Peter said, a surprising look of mirth on his face. "It's just, you're sounding an awful lot like a responsible adult there, _Cooper_. Never thought I'd see the day."

Neal rolled his eyes, though the irony was not lost on him. "He's my brother, Peter."

Peter sobered at that. "I know. And I rather like the kid, myself."

Neal smiled. "So you'll take him to the airport later?"

"How about I accompany both of you to the airport? I know you'll want to see him off."

A wave of gratitude washed over Neal at that. "Thank you." He frowned. "But that will show up on the Marshall's tracking data. Won't that be suspicious? I know people have been poking around White Collar after everything that happened."

Peter waved that off. "Doesn't matter. What's important right now is that brother of yours."

Neal nodded and glanced back at the slumbering form on his couch. Worry had been gnawing at his insides since Blaine's confession. Blaine wasn't the type to do reckless or purposefully hurtful things. He jumped into things headfirst, yes, and rarely thought about the consequences, but that was always because he felt like he had something to prove. He wasn't self-destructive, that much Neal knew for sure. Something else was going on, and the kid was going to need whatever support he could get.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>Blaine's head was pounding as consciousness mercilessly returned. He opened his eyes only to shut them immediately again; the light was too bright. He felt hung over, though he didn't remember drinking…<p>

Memories of the last few nights slammed into him and he bolted upright with a gasp. _Oh god, it was real. What have I done? Kurt… _

A blanket pooled at his waist and he looked around uncomprehendingly. He was sitting on a couch in a large room he couldn't place. It looked like he was in someone's—extremely fancy—apartment, but he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. Something itched at the back of his mind but whatever it was stayed out of his grasp when he reached for it.

Blaine looked around, feeling his mouth going dry. _Did I do it _again_? _Why couldn't he remember?

"Blaine?"

He looked over at the glass doors and saw a familiar figure stepping in. His breath caught in his throat as memories of that morning returned. Slowly, muscle by muscle, he was able to relax. He hadn't made things worse. Kurt had left the apartment that morning without a word. Blaine hadn't known where else to go, only knew he couldn't stay, so had taken a cab to his brother's place. He'd gotten the address in his planning stages for his trip during fall break, but didn't have any concept of where it was in relation to Kurt's place. It turned out to be a good thing that he'd nabbed Steve's credit card because it had been a long drive from Bushwick, though Blaine could barely remember it in the haze of guilt and self-hatred.

Cooper had a concerned look on his face as he stood in the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

Blaine shrugged, assessing. His entire body ached, his head was throbbing, and he was pretty sure there was some kind of clamp squeezing his heart. "Like I got hit by a bus," he said at last.

Cooper smiled humorlessly at that and nodded. "Not surprised. You were pretty out of it."

Blaine frowned. "How long was I asleep?"

"About four hours," Cooper replied.

Blaine flinched. "Coop, I—"

But his brother waved off the apology before Blaine could form the words. "Blaine, I want you to feel like you can come to me when something's wrong. I know that me being in New York and," he huffed out a mirthless laugh, "a criminal makes things difficult. But my door is always open. I'm just a phone call away."

He sighed and crossed the room. Blaine absently noted that Cooper was barefoot, which seemed surprisingly casual for the suave Neal Caffrey. And as Cooper's pants rode up with his steps, Blaine noticed that there was something hooked around his ankle.

_Tracking anklet,_ Blaine realized. Cooper had mentioned it, that he had a two mile radius unless he was with Agent Burke, but Blaine had never really thought about it. _Huh._ He didn't really know what to do with the realization, but it seemed to loosen up something inside him. Like it was a reminder that Blaine wasn't the only person that made mistakes and that there was a way to make up for them. Somehow.

Cooper sat down next to him on the couch, his fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. "I know I haven't been a good brother to you, but I want to be there for you now."

Blaine shrugged uncomfortably. He'd done something horrible. He didn't deserve sympathy. "Coop, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do," Cooper said harshly. Blaine blinked in surprise and Cooper's expression softened. "Blaine, the fact that you don't think you deserve love right now is exactly why you need it."

"I don't—"

"I'm not whitewashing what you did. It was stupid, it was dangerous, and you hurt someone you love." Blaine swallowed and nodded, gaze dropping to his lap. Cooper was right, he was a horrible person. He didn't deserve Kurt. He didn't deserve _anything_. "But the fact is, you're beating yourself up far more than anyone else could ever hope to."

Blaine looked back up in surprise at that. Cooper gave him a rueful smile. "I've been there."

Blaine studied Cooper's face for a long moment, but there was nothing but understanding there. He wasn't sure what to do with understanding, couldn't process it, so he thought back to what Agent Burke had told him about his brother's past.

"With Kate?" he asked when he thought he understood what Cooper meant.

A look of pain crossed Cooper's face at the name, but it was so quick Blaine thought he might have imagined it.

"Yes," he said. "With Kate. I… made some bad decisions and she left me. It was no less than I deserved, but I spent a long time looking for her, trying to make my mistakes up to her. We hurt each other a lot during that time, but we never stopped loving each other." He shook his head. "It only hurts so much _because_ you love each other."

Blaine nodded at that, unable to trust himself to speak.

"The point is, Blainey, you need someone in your corner, even when you screw up. Hell, _especially_ when you screw up. And that's always going to be me, OK?"

"I—"

"If anyone knows about making mistakes," Cooper said wryly, pulling up his pant leg so Blaine got a good view of the tracking anklet and wiggling his foot, "it's me."

Though the support was more than Blaine thought he deserved, that didn't stop the gratitude he felt. "Thanks, Coop."

Cooper nodded and they fell into a silence that wasn't entirely uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Blaine looked back around the apartment. It really was a beautiful space. The rooms he'd seen when the housekeeper had let him in had also been gorgeous.

"You've got a pretty nice place for an ex-con, bro."

Cooper burst out laughing at that, and for the first time in what seemed like eternity, Blaine felt his lips twitch upward.

* * *

><p>Though Blaine had started to lighten up marginally during the day, he looked absolutely miserable as they walked into the airport that evening. Peter moved off to the side to give them some privacy, and Neal gave him a grateful nod before turning to his brother.<p>

"Cooper, I… I don't know if I can do this."

"You have to go back home," Neal said firmly. "You have school and a whole life in Lima."

Blaine swallowed, his fingers clenching at his sides. "I have _Kurt's_ life back in Lima. And now I don't have Kurt." He'd tried calling his boyfriend a few times, but all the calls had gone to voicemail. Neal had watched on sadly as Blaine's face had crumpled each time he hung up the unanswered call.

Blaine's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said and the hurt came flooding back into his face.

"Blaine, listen to me," Neal said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, doing his best to pull the kid back from the ledge. He knew Blaine was going to be miserable for a long time, but he had to keep living his life, no matter how hard it might seem.

"Even if you transferred to McKinley for Kurt's sake, it's your school now. You're the student body president." And god, Neal had been proud when Blaine had told him that a few weeks before. "You're the lead soloist of the national champion glee club. And you have your own relationships with these people outside of Kurt."

"Do I?" Blaine asked morosely.

"Of course. It might not always feel like it," and boy did Neal know about living a life that didn't entirely belong to him, "but it _is_ your life. You have to keep living it, even if it hurts."

Those months Neal had spent pulling bigger and bigger cons to get Kate's attention and maybe, just maybe, pull her out of hiding had been some of the most painful months of his life. The con was always a thrill, but there was an all-encompassing emptiness that went with it since he'd had no one to share it with. Mozzie was always happy to join in, but it just wasn't the same.

Blaine sighed, the tension in his shoulders evaporating. Neal was a little surprised that Blaine didn't collapse, but kept a firm grip on his shoulder just in case. "I don't even know if we're broken up or not," he whispered brokenly. "I mean, we _should_ be, but I guess you have to be speaking to actually say so."

"Give him time. He has to work through this too."

Blaine nodded, eyes dropping to the floor.

"And anyway, I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

Blaine looked up sharply at that. "Coop, I can't—"

But Neal shook his head. "Just because you were planning to spend your break with Kurt doesn't mean you can't spend it with me now." Blaine opened his mouth to object, but Neal cut him off. "You've already paid for the tickets, right?" He didn't want for Blaine's nod of agreement to continue. "No point in letting them go to waste. You'll come out here and we'll have an amazing time. Peter's wife has already demanded to meet you, you know."

Blaine's mouth worked as he seemed to digest the information. "But your job…?"

"I was already planning on spending the days with you, remember? Peter gave his OK." He smirked. "Though if you wanted a tour of the FBI, I'm sure we could make that happen."

"Cooper, I don't know."

"What's there to know? New York is a huge city." He left the _We're not likely to run into Kurt_ hanging on the air, though Blaine seemed to hear it anyway, judging from his clenched jaw. "We can even spend the nights in, if you want." He just couldn't bear the thought of Blaine sitting in his room, with the blinds drawn and sappy pop music playing as he beat himself up for making a stupid, teenage mistake for the entirety of his break.

"But Mom and Steve…"

"Don't have to know you're not visiting Kurt."

Blaine blinked at that. "You mean I should lie to them?"

"Blaine, you booked a ticket on our stepfather's credit card while they were out of town and flew to _New York_ on your own. Do you really think _not_ telling them that you're having relationship problems is a big stretch?"

"Touché."

Peter coughed pointedly from his point of view and Neal rolled his eyes. "Not that I condone lying or anything."

Blaine let out a small laugh at that, and Neal took it for the small victory that it was. "So I'll see you in a couple of weeks?"

Blaine hesitated at that, but finally he gave a jerky nod. "OK."

Neal let out a sigh of relief. "Good." Giving Blaine something to hopefully look forward to seemed like the best option Neal had open to him. Blaine was struggling under some kind of heavy weight and he hated feeling helpless in front of all that pain.

He looked down at his watch and blinked. "Crap, your flight is leaving soon and you need to check in."

"I— Yeah. OK."

"Hey," Neal said, "call me when you get back." Blaine nodded. "And, you know, for anything else." Neal squeezed his brother's shoulder.

Blaine gave him a wan smile. "Thanks, Coop," he said before gathering himself and heading toward the check-in kiosks.

Neal felt Peter step up next to him as they watched Blaine print out his boarding pass. "You're a good brother, you know."

Neal blinked and glanced over at his partner in surprise. "What?"

Peter shrugged. "I know you feel bad about leaving things with him the way you did after Kramer. But this? Was kind of impressive. He's lucky to have you."

Neal shrugged. He had no right to be in Blaine's life in the first place, but the kid had let him back in despite everything he had done both as Cooper and as Neal. It still seemed like a miracle that he was granted the right to call himself a big brother again after all these years. He didn't want to take advantage of that ever again.

"I think it's the other way around, but thanks, Peter."

They might doubt each other at times and question each other's motives, but in the end, Neal knew he was lucky to have someone like Peter on his side. They might not always understand each other, but they could still have faith in one another. It was a strange thing, Neal thought, for someone to have faith in him, since he made so much of his life on lies. And yet it worked.

Peter clapped a hand on Neal's shoulder, and Neal appreciated the anchor as he watched Blaine head toward the TSA. His brother turned back and waved once before walking off. As Peter and Neal headed back to the parking lot, Neal pulled out his cell and wrote a quick text to Blaine, hoping he'd get it before he had to shut his phone off.

_Courage._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> And yes, there will be an entry about Blaine's break with Cooper soon.


End file.
